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“Take care, dear,” business tycoon Rouge the Bat called after the renowned reporter, Amy Rose, as the latter gleefully exited the casino. Amy’s smile was broad and brimming with confidence; though Rouge and Blaze had been practically no help, it didn’t make a difference. She was sure she had the murder down anyways— that tip from Espio was bound to be worth something!
She burst through the hot pink studio doors, entering the lounge car with all the flourish of an ace reporter on the brink of solving a homicide. Her eyes raked hungrily over the area, on the hunt for her target: her prime suspect.
The lounge was a much classier room in comparison to the bright, gaudy casino; walls the color of milk chocolate encased the train car’s interior, illuminated by a single massive diamond suspended proudly from the ceiling in place of a chandelier. An arrangement of bright scarlet sofas and polished brown coffee tables were huddled to the left, nearby which a robotic arm busily swept away at some residual debris resulting from the train’s prior malfunction.
Three Chao were perched beside various instruments up on a raised stage, filling the room with a crude, stuttering ambiance as they fumbled with their ensemble. Amy stifled a giggle as she imagined how long Shadow must have been stuck in here along with them, his heart too big for him to silence them but his patience too small for him to bear it.
And to her right—
“Oh, locksmith~!” Amy crowed as she spotted him, her chest puffed out with what could only be described as birthday girl privilege.
Shadow turned to face her, his blood-red eyes wide. He stood like a deer in the headlights, positioned before a computer-printer setup near the room’s entrance. His arms were splayed out awkwardly by his sides, as though caught in a crude attempt to hide something.
His guilt in the murder, no doubt! her mind sang.
“Amy,” he said slowly, nodding in greeting. The outfit he donned was almost adorable; a green cap sat nestled between his ears, its matching smock fastened tight over Shadow’s lean figure.
“C’mon, I haven’t introduced myself,” Amy whined. “In character, please!”
“…Miss Reporter.”
“Oh, you can just call me Amy, Sir Locksmith!” She grinned cheekily at him, earning a trademark scowl in return. “So, whatcha hiding? That doesn’t look like lock-smithing you’re doing.”
Shadow made no movements whatsoever, his stare red-hot as though all his energy was exerted just from maintaining eye contact.
Guilty, guilty!
“I knew it!” Amy squealed, unable to contain the excitement that practically spilled out of her any longer.
“Knew what?” Shadow grunted, a few stray quills raising on instinct.
“That you’re the killer!”
Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn Shadow’s shoulders had relaxed ever so slightly. Amy could almost feel the snide sarcasm he prepared to unleash.
“Ahh. You got me.” His eyelids slid shut in mock surrender, mouth settling into a tight-lipped smirk.
“Wh—Hey! That’s not how this is supposed to work! You’re so out of character,” she huffed, planting her hands firmly upon her hips. An overhead vent sighed a gentle draft down into the cabin, Amy’s striking blue-feathered boa rustling as the breeze combed its way through.
“Relax. I’m teasing.” Shadow’s voice seemed stronger now, more smug. “I’m not the killer. Although I’d love to hear how you came to that conclusion. I’m just a humble locksmith, you see.” He cocked a brow, sliding a finger down the side of the computer to shut it off. After a brief pause to adjust the brim of his cap, he removed himself from his position by the setup and walked to stand beside her, no more than a foot away.
Amy tried to ignore the way her breath caught in her throat at his sudden proximity. She couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had even been this close, let alone by themselves. “I have an inside source.”
The locksmith’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? I’d love to hear which imbecile is enjoying dragging my name through the mud,” he huffed, folding his arms over his smock.
“Eh?! Hey, I can’t just give that stuff away, silly! Murder mysteries are no fun if I’m ruining the surprise!” She giggled, playfully pushing her gloved fingers into his white-furred chest.
“Fine, if that’s the way you want to play it.” He spoke smoothly, but his verbal nonchalance was betrayed by the ghost of a grin twisting briefly over his muzzle. “Why don’t you interview me, then, O Miss Reporter? Since I’m so guilty.”
Amy stuck her tongue out at him. “Well, I think I just might! You, Mr. Locksmith, are going down!” She jabbed a finger towards the ground as she spoke, her boa losing its grip her shoulder.
“First of all,” the reporter started, retrieving a pen and notepad from the cupcake headpiece she adorned. Shadow blinked, incredulous. With a giggle, Amy continued. “Why exactly were you locking all those doors?”
Shadow shut his eyes, lowering his head in a deep, contemplative nod. Arms still crossed, he opened his mouth to speak. “Clearly, I was murdering Sonic, and didn’t want anyone interrupting.”
“Ah-HA! See? I knew it was—“ she paused mid-gloat, scanning Shadow’s glittering eyes. “You. You suck, you know that?” Amy tittered, playfully socking her friend squarely in the gut.
“ Oof! ” Shadow grunted, following up with a breathy chuckle and a wicked grin. “No, really. It was glorious. You should have seen it.” His fangs glinted in the fluorescent light as he drawled on, boasting about the ingenious torture methods he had chosen to finally defeat his long-standing rival. For a moment, the mystery, the party, and the death of Sonic the Hedgehog was irrelevant.
A sigh bubbled forth from Amy’s chest before she could stop it. She bit back a gasp, blinking rapidly, hoping the ebony hedgehog hadn’t noticed her unintentionally dreamy demeanor. To her dismay, however, the boastful glimmer in his eye had turned into a shit-eating inferno.
“I’m winning you over with my locksmith-y charms, aren’t I?” His voice was deep, too deep, and the subtle growl that always darkened his tone had taken on an unfamiliar, borderline provocative edge.
She really hoped the heat in her cheeks hadn’t chosen to show. “Hah!” Amy burst, recovering her thoughts. “As if. In fact, I can see the headlines now: ‘Local Ultimate Lifeform’s Ego Boosted So High He Thinks Everyone’s Flirting With Him’,” she giggled, waving a hand through the air in a dramatic arc.
Shadow settled back into his usual stony, heavy-lidded expression with a shrug. “Well, I guess if you’re going to get me cancelled, I should have no reason to give you your gift.”
Amy immediately leapt to her feet. “Huh?! Whoa, I mean, let’s not be too hasty! It was just a joke, y’know?” she corrected herself frantically, clasping Shadow’s hands between her own. Her tail flit rapidly from side to side, ears standing straight at attention.
Shadow merely rolled his eyes. “Too bad those headlines are still out,” he challenged.
A desperate squeak pierced the air. “Oh! Would you look at that! By some miracle, the articles have been mass-recalled and, um, revised! New headline reads ‘Ultimate Lifeform Definitely Worth Flirting With, Ego Okay To Remain Unchecked’.”
A shudder rolled over Shadow’s body. Amy’s grip on his hands tightened nervously as the shudder turned to a shake, then a full-on uproar of laughter. Between the hoarse, gravelly barks of an evidently barely-used laugh, the locksmith managed to work in a reply. “Hah! It’ll do, for now.”
The pink hedgehog sighed in relief, then defiantly raised her coal-black button nose until it was mere inches from his face. “Now!” she puffed, “How about that birthday gift?” He looked down at her, the brim of his cap hovering over the space between them.
Shadow’s uncharacteristic laughter subsided, and he removed his hands from hers. “How far behind you is that detective of yours?”
The murder mystery situation came rushing back to her. “Who, Tails?”
A nod.
“He should be with Rouge and Blaze by now. He’s teamed up with that food service guy. Barry, I think? Anyways, Rouge seemed distracted by something, so I’m guessing those two have their work cut out for them.” Amy paused, raising a brow. “Why?”
A pause. “This gift is a secret.” Shadow’s eyes grew hazy and he narrowed them, his tail standing upright and alert. Was he… nervous? The Ultimate Lifeform? She stifled a laugh at the very idea. Clearly sentiment and birthday gifts weren’t his strong suit.
“Cross my heart,” she teased, bringing her hands to meet behind her back and lacing them together.
Shadow blinked. “What?”
“It’s an expression!” Amy giggled, turning her body to elbow him playfully. Shadow seemed to relax a little. He had been standing a little stiffer than she initially thought, she realized. “It means I won’t tell, no matter what.”
“No matter what? I’m liking my odds, Amy.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards.
A chill ran down her spine, startling her. Amy Rose? Intimidated? No, intimidated wasn’t the word. Apprehensive? No, that wasn’t quite right either.
The word ‘eager’ popped into her head at the same time as his lips crashed against hers.
Her eyes widened, long lashes fluttering in sync with the butterflies erupting in her stomach. A muffled squeak of surprise escaped her, then cut off immediately by the sensation of his fingers in her quills. He cupped the back of her head, tilting his muzzle to better connect them and firmly seal their mouths together. Her eyelids grew heavy, her hands untangling from behind her back to clasp needily around the small of his as she kissed back, overtaken by a craving she never knew she had.
They lingered like that for a while, melting into place around each others’ mouths before eventually pulling away, air hot and sparse between them as they gasped for it. Shadow was dead silent, his ruby eyes dancing with sparks and a hunger for approval. Gold-ringed wrists fell onto to her shoulders. Her heart slammed against her chest with a vigor akin to the swing of her own hammer’s; she could almost hear the piko! of every beat.
“S-So…”
“So.”
She was suddenly aware— aware of the weight of his inhibitors as his hands hung listlessly over her shoulder-blades; aware of the curled fingertips ghosting over her rosy fur; aware of the shade the brim of his forest-colored cap cast across his face; aware of the proximity between them; aware of the way she could smell her own strawberry chapstick on his lips.
Aware of how badly her curious heart ached for her to continue.
It was her birthday, and birthday girls don’t lose. She opened her mouth.
“Was that it, Ultimate Locksmith? Or—“
Amy Rose was on the couch in seconds, the bright blue feathers of her boa splaying like angel’s wings over the crimson cushions. Gloved hands and shivers chased their way up her spine, the surrounding fur rising to stand on end. His lips crashed against her collarbone, teeth and tongue meeting her pale, peach fur again and again as he kissed her up and down.
Her hooded eyes followed the sharp-quilled top of his head dreamily as he worked. In a blissful haze, she brushed that ridiculous— yet undeniably cute— hat of his off to the side, giving her a better view. It meant more to her than he could ever know that he had shown up in character; Shadow the Hedgehog, the Ultimate Lifeform, for all his pride, ego, and antisocial attitude, had bothered to show up to her birthday party and play his part.
Shadow’s ears pricked up at the sensation of the fabric leaving his quills, and with a roll of his eyes he swatted her cupcake-topped headband down onto the floor below.
“Hey!” she giggled, cupping his chin in the palms of her hands and kissing his cheeks and the bridge of his muzzle feverishly. “I spent a lot of time picking that out.”
He returned the kisses to her dimples and lips in full before pulling back a little to meet her gaze. “And you think I didn’t spend an equal amount of effort selecting mine? My, you’ve underestimated the Ultimate Lifeform for the last time,” he challenged with a grin.
Amy grasped the straps of his apron and yanked him back into her arms, causing to him to lose his balance and land unceremoniously on top of her with a rugged “ Oof! ”
A peal of laughter was wrenched from the reporter’s gut as she hooked a leg under him, shifting the locksmith until his knees were between her own. Alarm flashed briefly over Shadow’s face as he seemed to take notice of the way his thigh settled against the skirt of her dress, bunching it dangerously close to her waist.
“Underestimated, hmm?” Amy goaded. “From where I stand, er, lay, it looks like my analysis was spot on—“ she leaned in close “— chicken. ”
The look that he shot back was something she had never seen before; a swirl of disgruntlement, hunger, impatience, awe, and something else she couldn’t quite place shrouded his gaze. He pushed towards her with equal confidence, leaning in, relishing in the way she shrank back ever so slightly.
“Miss Reporter,” he breathed, hot air and the tips of his fangs grazing the fur along her ears. “I think I’ve got a better scoop for you.” A gloved hand found her waist, and she arched her back along with it, pinned fully beneath him.
“That so?” She lowered her gaze, deftly undoing the knots holding his apron to him. His breath hitched as the strings fell slack. “Do tell, Mr. Locksmith.”
“I—” was all Shadow managed, drowned out by the hammering of their hearts. Her fingertips grazed his neckline, curling slowly around the apron’s final strap. “Amy—”
“Chao?”
Both heads snapped in the direction of the sound, gazes landing on the stage. The ragtag band of Chao stood there, dwarfed by their enormous instruments, eyes glued to the pair on the couch.
“Oh, Chaos,” Amy breathed, adjusting her position to sit up a little. “I’m so sorry. I forgot you all were there.” Shadow’s eyes remained fixated on the group, brows furrowed as though trying to fathom how he could possibly overlook their presence. Amy giggled apologetically. “Rain check?”
Shadow jolted, facing her once more. “Pardon?” he muttered, clearly flustered.
“To be continued,” Amy clarified, sweeping her legs off the edge of the sofa and gathering her headdress from its floor grave.
No response. By the time she had returned her appearance to a level she deemed presentable, Shadow already stood at his place by the computer, stupid hat and all. “Is that a no?” Amy teased.
He jerked towards her, vigorously shaking his head. “…No.”
“Oh.” It was a no.
Amy knew that this had come out of absolutely nowhere, but now that the flame had been kindled, she was desperate not to let it fizzle out. Had he only kissed her because he pitied her? Because he felt bad for her for hoping Sonic of all people would remember her one request— for a birthday cake?
“Wait,” Shadow paused, brows furrowing again. “That’s… that’s not what I mean. I mean yes, it’s not a— that is, it’s a—” The Ultimate Lifeform fumbled with the words forming in his fanged mouth, ears flustered beet-red and pressed flat to his quills. “That band, Hot Honey—”
The sound of emptying pockets and various random items clattering onto the floor shattered their peace. Barry and Tails stood tall in the doorway, looking proud and eager.
Amy’s expression darkened quickly, and she raised her voice dramatically. “I know you won’t talk, but I know exactly why you’ve been locking those doors!”
Shadow, though looking distressed at his interrupted train of thought, quickly caught on and played along. “It’s hard to get a word in as you talk over me,” he jabbed. “I have my reasons, I—”
“No reason is convincing enough! I know exactly what you did!” Her eyes bore into his accusingly, but she subtly lifted her index finger . ‘This isn’t over.’
She only hoped he felt the same.